


But not all of them, he loves

by ionia



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bachelor Party, Bittersweet, Gen, M/M, Open Relationships, POV Clark Kent, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionia/pseuds/ionia
Summary: If anyone’s heart is big enough to love two people, it’s Clark’s.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	But not all of them, he loves

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline/continuity on this is weird, maybe. The boys are still quite young (I imagine them at the end of their 20s in this), have maybe been superheroing for a couple years max. There is a league.

Jimmy’s chosen the place. He’s absolutely star-struck and aware of the company he’s in, but keeps it cool as he leads their little party into a relatively quiet bar in downtown Metropolis. Barry had suggested a karaoke place in Tokyo, and Clark had to remind him that not everyone he wanted to invite would be able to fly, run, or teleport there. So, Barry is here, in civvies, and Hal with him. Behind them enters an eerily human-looking J’onn, and John Stewart, even though he’s not in the league anymore, but he tells a damn good story and Clark wouldn’t want one of his closest friends to miss his bachelor party. Pete has flown out here all the way from Smallville, just for him.

As if by miracle, Bruce has shown up too, although he keeps looking over his shoulder when they’re still out on the street, high-collared jacket and baseball cap obscuring his face. Clark is happy to see him take it off once they’re inside, but some of that fades when he notices the stiches above one of his eyebrows and makeup covering a bruise on his left cheek.

When they’re all finally settled around a large table tucked into the back of the bar – it’s quiet, even for a Friday, but you can never be too careful, and Clark is happy he let Jimmy choose the location because he obviously knows his way around Metropolis nightlife – Oliver walks in, large grin plastered onto his face. Bruce looks as if he wants to castrate him, grumbles something about discretion and leaving any society reporters at the door. The two billionaires argue back and forth a bit, Clark hears Oliver mention something about it being fine that he parked his helicopter on top of the Metropolis branch of Wayne Enterprises, and yes. They’re complete. The night of his bachelor party is underway.

Lois is with Diana, Cat, and a couple of other friends. Clark has offered to let everyone choose, they didn’t have to do the traditional men-women thing, but Diana said she would choose Lois’ bachelor party over his any day of the week. To which, of course, Lois was absolutely rub-it-in-your-face for about a week. That Wonder Woman wanted to party with her, and not with him, and somewhere, Clark can’t wait to hear what they’re getting up to right now. Everything at its time, though.

He orders everyone a round of drinks, Hal claps him on the back (which he immediately regrets and Clark is the one to apologize), there’s toasts.

“Are you nervous, man? I know I was,” Hal starts. “They say nothing changes, it’s just a piece of paper, blabla, but it does!” Everyone laughs. “I’m telling you, the moment you get back from your honeymoon, you’re knee deep in domesticity and no more going out.”

“I don’t think that will be much of a problem with Lois, Hal. Although we did have that a little bit when Jon arrived. But Lois couldn’t wait to get back out.” It’s Clark’s turn to laugh.

“If anything, she’ll start dragging you out to more things,” Jimmy adds gleefully and winks at Clark.

“Anyway,” Oliver starts, holds up his glass. “Last night as a free man!” Clark’s never really understood that. Lois has already captured him a long time ago in so many ways. All of them he loves, but he raises his half-empty glass anyway.

The table settles into a comfortable chit-chat, more jokes about Clark, stories of the early days of the league, memories and laughs. Somehow, his gathered and stray group of friends mixes surprisingly well, for which he’s grateful. Maybe this really won’t be so bad, and tomorrow will be the best day of his life (or so they say).

Amid the chatter, he looks at Bruce on the other side of the table, utterly out of place between their friends in a dark brown bar and jazz music playing softly. As Clark talks and laughs with the others, Bruce looks back at him. The gaze unsettles him, as it always does, makes him question things, as it always does. It shouldn’t. Not anymore.

_(He’s chosen. A long time ago in fact. Lois is the one that waits for him, all the time. That doesn't turn him away. The one to make him laugh and feel at home in a city where no one knows each other. The one that holds him at night when the world has been too much. Bruce can simply never be that.)_

_\---_

_“We should stop,” Bruce breathes, inch away from his mouth and the wall of the cave wet behind his cape._

_“She’s okay with it.”_

_“To what extent?”_

_Clark sighs, swallows. “I don’t know, exactly.”_

_“That’s something you might want to consider discussing.” Bruce turns away before he can come up with a reply. The rock crumbles under his hand and Bruce tells him to leave when he reaches the computer._

_\---_

“… and then Hal went and actually _asked_ her for it! You should have been there!” The group’s laughter pulls him out of his thoughts and he laughs along meekly when Pete taps him on the shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not getting cold feet are we, Clark?” Oliver asks.

He looks at Bruce. “No.”

The night eventually takes them back out onto the streets, half of them already stumbling as they make their way out of the small bar, but the cool night air sobers them up. Jimmy hangs onto Clark’s shoulders, Barry tries to jump onto his back for a piggyback ride, but Clark is fast to blur away, too fast for Barry, who, despite his fast metabolism, is a little intoxicated.

“So, what now? Night’s still young.”

“That it is, Hal. If you’re on the west coast.” Oliver has his hands in his pockets, Bruce’s cap is back over his eyes.

“Hey, supes can just fly around the world and spin back the clock a little, yeah?”

“You know I can’t actually do that, right? Ask Barry.”

“Nope, not tonight. I’ll throw up.”

“Not to mention you’ll mess up big time.”

“Any other good joints around here, Jimmy?” John asks.

“Plenty. What do you say, Clark? Another bar? Something more adventurous?”

“I have an apartment close to here,” Bruce cuts in. “Bar’s fully stocked.”

“Of course you do.”

“Don’t you?” Bruce raises an eyebrow at Oliver. “Comes in handy when I have to keep an eye on a certain Superguy around here.”

The small crowd looks at Clark, awaiting answer. “Sure,” he shrugs. “It has a nice view.”

_\---_

_Lois is pregnant at home on the couch and he’s in an unfamiliar bed, away from her. The apartment feels cold, not kept by Alfred, and only illuminated by a bright moon streaming through the sheer curtains draped across large windows. The bed sheets are white, the walls light, and the corners angular, modern. A bigger contrast with Bruce’s bedroom at the manor is near impossible._

_“I don’t know what you want anymore, Clark,” Bruce says as he rolls away from him, sits up. “Don’t you like this place?”_

_“Bruce. You bought a penthouse in downtown Metropolis. For what? To be closer?”_

_“It seemed convenient.”_

_“Don’t talk to me about convenience when I could fly to Gotham in less than a minute.”_

_“You know what I mean.” When the baby arrives._

_“Bruce,” he starts again. But gets stuck, because what does that mean? He swallows, makes a decision in the span of a second. “I won’t be here. He’s going to need a dad. Lois needs me.”_

_“Okay. That’s clear.” Bruce gets up. “Okay,” he says again as he walks to the bathroom._

_Yet after that, there’s the bed, cold and warmed up by their bodies on a chance night, or a take-out dinner on the couch, a documentary running quietly on the large flatscreen TV while they talk. Lois never asks, but only because she knows. Jon grows healthily, strong, Lois falls asleep in Clark’s arms, and he feeds Jon in the middle of the night._

_\---_

Now, the apartment smells clean, the fridge is empty but the pantry fully stocked. And the bar, as Bruce said. Two couches face each other in front of large windows, Clark knows which door leads to the bedroom. He doesn’t look at it.

Bruce switches on all the lights, it floods the place in yellow. It’s bright in a way Clark’s never seen it, he realizes. He pulls out a couple of bottles, asks the others what they want. A mirror of _Brucie Wayne, host_ and not how Clark has ever seen him, here.

“You been here before, Clark?” Jimmy asks.

“Yes,” he admits.

“Sweet place.”

The group gets comfortable on the couches, Bruce suggests they could play pool, and Clark has a hard time imagining Bruce doing anything so casual. He wonders if he’s good at it, if he’s played here before, with anyone else. The pool table is new. 

John draws up some kind of a tournament, teams are formed and bets are placed. Clark sits on one of the couches next to Bruce, watching the others play, another beer in hand and Bruce has started a glass of whiskey. He’s savouring it, clearly enjoying the flavour and laughs at Barry’s jokes, J’onn’s overly serious tactics at the pool table. Clark can’t get a grasp on how _normal_ Bruce looks, how calm, as if nothing will change tomorrow. Here, of all places and it’s somehow not fake.

He realizes, Bruce brought them here to abandon the illusion that were those slow, quiet nights. It’s a normal apartment, he says with this. It will be, now. After tomorrow. A comforting thought as much as a terrifying one.

The cashmere of Bruce’s turtleneck is soft under his fingers when he reaches out to him and there’s a glint in his eyes that Clark is unable to read, hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Can I try a glass of that too?”

“I didn’t know you were into whiskey.”

“Hey, it’s my bachelor night. I got taste buds.”

Bruce smiles. “Sure.”

Clark leans against the large island counter as Bruce reaches for a whiskey glass that he could have easily found himself.

“It doesn’t have to end,” he says to Bruce’s back.

“Doesn’t it.”

The soft kitchen light hits Bruce’s shoulders just so, accentuates his jaw, and makes him yearn for simpler times. _Bruce on one of the bar stools, humming as he tastes the food Clark’s cooked for him, same light, same cashmere sweater._ Who was the one to complicate it anyway? Briefly, Clark wonders if he’s made a mistake by asking Lois to marry him, but no. Bruce is the mistake. Clark was just the one to make it.

“I mean,” he starts. “I don’t know. What difference does marriage make, anyway?” Clark laughs. It comes out hollow.

“This ended a while ago, Clark. Tonight is merely closure.”

Bruce is right, of course. “Okay.”

Bruce hands him the glass, their fingers touch, and that’s it. He sends him a look, one that says _are you, though?_ but Clark doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just walks back to the living room. It’s his turn at pool.

Not an hour later Clark finds himself on the bed, the carpet in front of him only illuminated by the faint light reflected off the clouds over Metropolis. Raindrops stick to the large windows as they trickle down, and isn’t that ironic? Rain in Metropolis the night before Superman gets married.

“Thought I might find you here.” Laughter and yelling drift into the room before Bruce quietly shuts the door again.

“I just needed a minute to come to terms with the fact that we just... broke up, I think?”

Bruce stays in the middle of the room. “You knew that would happen. You chose.”

“I did.”

“Then stop with the guilt. I’ll be fine." His expresssion softens. "I have a kid to take care of now, too.”

“He’s great,” Clark smiles. “I know you will be.”

“Worried about yourself then?”

“I think I’ll just miss you. Miss this.”

Clark gets up and walks past Bruce. The glass of the window is cold under his touch, the street far below them. _Bruce's fingertips white, his palm pressed flat again the glass, same view. He kisses Bruce's neck, tells him he loves him. He chooses those moments carefully, when it barely registers, when Bruce is almost physically unable to respond. But he makes sure he knows, anyway._

“Me too.” Bruce’s hand is on his arm now, turning Clark towards him. Bruce has captured him too, in many ways. But not all of them he loves.

_(It’s hard to love Bruce Wayne. It’s hard not to love him.)_

A tentative smile forms on Bruce’s face. “Last night as a free man, right?” Bruce’s offer is tempting, they’re already crowding each other’s space, heartbeats loud and it won’t take much more now. But that will only make it harder. Clark shakes his head. Still, he hugs Bruce closer, caresses his temple, mindful of the stitches on his brow. Bruce leans into the touch.

“Why does it feel so wrong to love two people, Bruce?”

Bruce huffs. “Society. Most people don’t have a big enough heart. Plus, partners cannot deal with the jealousy.”

“But you do.”

“I’m not Lois, nor is she me.”

They could never replace one another. Clark’s breathing feels restricted, his throat thick, in spite of Bruce’s comforting presence. “What if I don’t want to choose?”

“Then don’t.” Bruce’s hand moves up along Clark’s arm. “Then don’t.”

He isn’t sure who starts the kiss, but their noses touch, breathing the same air, lips brush. There’s no tongue. It’s not a start, not tonight. It’s an end.

“I’m sorry.” _Sorry for loving you. Sorry for choosing Lois. Sorry for everything we did together._

“Don’t be.” Bruce is the one to make sure there is some breathing room between them again, his hand lingers. “You and I both know I've always been number two. And I... was okay with that. It was enough. In fact,” he chuckles. “It was almost too much.”

_The cave is only illuminated by the blue light of the computer monitor as Clark lifts Bruce out of his chair, already fast asleep. Alfred watches from a distance and thanks Clark for arriving so fast. On those night, he sleeps next to Bruce, just to keep him in bed. On nights that Bruce pushes him away, stuck in a case and his anger almost palpable, even Superman admits defeat. Clark waits for him upstairs and eventually leaves through the window before dawn to go back to Metropolis, bed unslept in._

He’ll make sure Bruce is fine without him. Alfred knows who to call.

“I want to move out to the farm with them. Jon needs room to grow. Rao knows I did.” He smiles at the memories of Kansas, yellow fields and endless sky where he learnt to fly, where he could be himself.

“Stubborn. Thinking you can take Lois out of the city.” Bruce doesn’t know they’ve already talked about it. “But that’s good. I’ll make sure to visit with Dick and Alfred.”

“We can play baseball.” Outside, the rain has stopped, the sky slowly turning lighter.

Bruce throws him something as he walks back to the door. The key to the apartment. “Stay here tonight.”

“It’s morning.”

“Whatever. I’m going home, I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“Catch some sleep,” Clark tries before Bruce opens the door, but he’s already gone.

In the living room, the others are in various states of consciousness. John and J’onn, back in his alien form, are still wrapped up in their game of pool, Barry and Hal asleep on the couch and Jimmy and Pete passed out on the other. The coffee table between them is littered with beers and glasses. Oliver has his forehead on the cool marble of the kitchen island. He turns his face to Clark.

“Bruce just left without saying anything. What happened?”

Clark thinks, shrugs. “Not important. He gave me the key, we can stay here until we’re ready to go to the wedding in a couple hours.”

“A couple hours…” Oliver groans.

“Is that an early wedding gift, Clark?” John asks from over by the pool table.

Clark looks at the key in his hand. “No,” he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he’ll want it back.”

“I’ll never understand the guy.”

“Don’t even try. That’s what we have Clark for,” Oliver says to the marble counter.

“I mean, I like to think I’ve got a pretty good grasp of him, but he surprises me too.” His soft insides contrasted by a hard shell, blackened by trauma and the night. His cryptic language that is like a puzzle for Clark to unfold, understand, reciprocate. They’ll still have that, have friendship. And the memories of time spent together.

In the distance, he hears Bruce’s heartbeat speeding back to Gotham. With him, doubt that leaves Clark, replaced with a light and excitement. He looks out the window up at the blue sky over the city. He’s getting married today.

He regards his friends, a bunch of gathered individuals, outcasts like himself who have found each other through Clark, through the purpose of trying to do good. “Who wants breakfast? I’ll go get eggs.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope Lois had a better bachelor party, at least.


End file.
